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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999566">precautions</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_you_down/pseuds/written_you_down'>written_you_down</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>three [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Bastille (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Idiots in Love, M/M, all of my christmas fics and all of your christmas fics we post them one by one, kyle clever clever cookie now simmons</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:06:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28999566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/written_you_down/pseuds/written_you_down</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the end, there were only two possibilities: Dan either loved him or he didn’t.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kyle Simmons/Dan Smith</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>three [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2044069</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/easydays/gifts">easydays</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please forgive the delay, my friend. My tardiness is in no way a reflection on your wonderfulness. &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Kyle told Dan was at One Eyed Jack’s.</p><p>	He had no idea when he set out that day that he’d be the one to finally start everything into motion. It felt like a normal Tuesday, or as normal as a Tuesday during a pandemic could be, at any rate. Boris had crowded Kyle’s television screen one day earlier, drolly announcing that nonessential workers could return to their jobs so long as they followed the proper precautions.</p><p>	Kyle’s job was a funny thing. It had never felt nonessential to him; it wasn’t as if he could refrain from trying to assemble the bits of melodies and beats that floated ‘round in his head into a song. He would never think to compare himself to Dan, who was fucking brilliant (Kyle knew better than to tell him as much—one could never directly compliment Dan, it practically shut him down) but he <i>had </i> to make music. Even if he’d had a more normal job, if Dan hadn’t convinced him to join the band, Kyle knew he’d still be trying to do music in his spare time. It might not have been essential to the world, but it was essential to him.</p><p>	Kyle knew that Dan had been at the studio as often as he could manage. Via his texts, Dan insisted that he was taking every precaution: he was riding his bike, wearing a mask along the way, and working alone in the building. Kyle seldom quarrelled with Dan over much of anything, let alone his process of creating music, and found that he didn’t have it in him to argue pandemic technicalities with Dan. If Dan was simply exchanging his flat for an empty studio, with no contacts along the way, it did seem to be as safe as venturing to the park for exercise, which they were allowed to do.  </p><p>	Still, Kyle worried. </p><p>Christ, he <i>worried</i> like Dan belonged to him but kept his concerns to himself and waited for the day he’d be allowed to join Dan in the studio.</p><p>The official announcement was not even an hour old when Kyle’s phone vibrated with a message from Dan:</p><p>
  <b> how soon can you be here? </b>
</p><p>Kyle laughed as he read it. As if he had other plans, as if he even knew what bloody day of the week it was, as if there were anything else he’d rather do. Even though it was Monday and even though it probably broke some sort of unwritten code that cautioned against seeming too available or too desperate, he replied:</p><p>
  <b> Tuesday </b>
</p><p>He watched as Dan immediately responded:</p><p>
  <b> next week Tuesday or tomorrow Tuesday </b>
</p><p>Kyle answered before he could even give it a second thought because what the hell, he was available and dammit, he <i>was</i> desperate:</p><p>
  <b> tomorrow </b>
</p><p>	Dan’s text appeared quickly and Kyle held his breath before releasing it into a laugh that was a mix of giddiness and relief.</p><p>	<b>thank fuck for that. I’ll see you in the morning </b></p><p>	So it was that Kyle found himself loading up his backpack with items that months earlier had seemed like medical supplies. He looked over all of it, making sure he had a mask and an adequate amount of hand sanitizer. He’d debated on bringing a change of clothes, not that he planned on spending the night, but for the first time in his life, he was genuinely worried about taking the tube. It seemed ridiculous to fret to this extent, but he had not ridden it since everything in the world has fallen to bits. Best just to pack the clothes, he reckoned.</p><p>	His anxiety high, his heart heavy that things were so bad that he even had reason to fret in this manner, he exited the station and made his way to the studio. Kyle knew he would only have made this journey and wrestled with his fear for a very short list of people. At the very top of that list was Dan. </p><p>	He wasn’t sure what he would find when he reached the studio. He didn’t know how many people would be there. Technically (or legally, Christ, what a world), there could be no more than ten people in the building—he didn’t much care who the other eight would be. </p><p>Kyle rapped his knuckles against the door before deciding he might better to send a text. If Dan was buried in a song, it was unlikely he’d hear anything else. Before he could reach into his pocket to fetch his phone, the door swung open and Dan’s blue eyes blinked at him from atop a mask.</p><p>Kyle understood why masks were necessary and dutifully he wore his, but he had never cared for it. Seeing the one that now covered the majority of Dan’s face, he absolutely hated masks for robbing him of being able to see the very thing he’d spent the last few months missing. </p><p>Dan’s eyes had been without expression, but softened as he stood before Kyle. “Do you not have a key?” he asked by way of greeting before stepping back to make room for Kyle. He gestured as he did adding, “Come in, come in.”</p><p>Kyle wasn’t sure what to do, where to stand, how much space to give Dan, was he to give him two meters distance? Were they wearing masks the entire time? Erring on the side of caution, he moved past Dan to set his backpack down in a chair. “No, I’ve never had a key.”</p><p>“I’ll find you one. You should have one.” Dan still stood at the door and being unable to see his face, Kyle couldn’t even guess what was going through his head. </p><p>“Do the others have keys?” Kyle asked as if it were the very thing he’d come all this way through a virus invested city to discuss. Keys, fuck yeah.</p><p>“Well, no actually, but you— I’m sorry, this is weird. It’s these bloody masks.”</p><p>“They are the actual worse,” Kyle agreed. “But I don’t want to be the one who gives everyone’s most favourite British indie frontman ‘rona, so I suppose they stay on, yeah?”</p><p>Dan raised an eyebrow. “I must be mishearing you through this damned thing because it sounds as if you’re talking about possibly infecting Dave Bayley.”</p><p>Kyle slowly raised a middle finger in Dan’s direction before bending to grab his backpack. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just go scrub the skin off of my hands in the sink now.” Making sure he was loud enough to be heard from across the room, he sang “clap clap you’re a clever, clever cookie now…” as he exited.</p><p>The door to the loo closed firmly behind him and he went about the business of washing his hands as thoroughly as he could. Satisfied that the first verse and chorus of “Waterfalls Coming Out Your Mouth” was long enough to scrub, he rinsed and dried off. He glanced at his backpack and decided that he’d feel a bit better about all of it if he put on clean clothes. He reached inside of the bag, removed the extra set he’d brought with him and went about changing. </p><p>Kyle certainly felt more at ease regarding the things he might have had contact with outside of the studio, but now he was beginning to fret about what was currently <i>inside</i> of the studio. From the looks of things, he and Dan were the only ones there. If so, then perhaps it was finally time to give a voice to the conversation he’d only had in his head ‘til now.</p><p>He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, wondering if he looked as nervous and awkward as he felt. Fortunately, the mask covered most of it.</p><p>He walked out and found that Dan was in the same place. Kyle paused beside a chair and waited. Dan gestured at a sofa that was to his left. “Suppose that’s far enough away for us to sit?”</p><p>Kyle nodded, sat in the chair, and wondered if maybe the precautions could work in his favor. Dan couldn't push him away if Kyle was already out of reach. The mask would conceal Dan’s reaction to Kyle’s words and prevent him from having to actually see Dan’s pity.</p><p>“Pandemic, you know,” Dan mumbled as folded himself into a Dan-shaped-pretzel on the sofa. “So many fucking rules.”</p><p>“I <i>know</i>. It’s sorta terrifying out there, never been so worried about riding the bloody tube in my life.” He watched as Dan tensed and wished he had left that bit to himself. </p><p>“Shit, Kyle. I didn’t think—of course, you had to, Christ. I’m sorry. I just wanted to see you, but I shouldn’t have asked you—”</p><p>Kyle closed his eyes and inhaled as much as his mask would allow, hoping the air would calm the things that Dan’s words were doing to him. Hearing Dan say that he had wanted to see him made Kyle feel as if he had scaled a mountaintop. </p><p>“I was coming to see you whether you asked me to or not.”  </p><p>Kyle knew he was standing dangerously close to the edge of his scaled mountaintop with that comment. It was such a risk to talk this way. Everything in his livelihood was tied to this man, but then, that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t very well move forward until he faced the truth. Staying silent would only keep him in this semi-state of purgatory that had begun years ago when he joined the band. </p><p>Kyle wanted to say it; he wanted to tell Dan the truth. </p><p>The past few months had given him ample time to consider the outcomes from all angles. In the end, there were only two possibilities: Dan either loved him or he didn’t. </p><p>If he told Dan how he felt and Dan didn’t feel the same, Kyle didn’t think Dan would ask him to leave the band. Kyle imagined a sadness filling Dan’s eyes, but never disgust. He was too kind for that. Worst case scenario, Dan would pity him—which okay, was <i>awful</i> to think of—but Dan wouldn’t send him away. </p><p>“So, I, I need to tell you something that I figured out a long time ago, but could never say.”</p><p>Dan nodded and then rested his chin atop of his knees. He couldn’t tell if Dan was settling in or suppressing something of his own but forced himself to keep speaking now that he’d taken it this far. </p><p>“Do you remember when we started touring? That time in the alley before one of our first gigs? I went looking for you and you were—”</p><p>“Hiding from the world,” Dan said in a soft voice. “I remember.”</p><p>“I knew it then. And that time in Russia when you gave me that terrible cold—” </p><p>“We don’t know for certain that <i> I</i> was the one who—”</p><p>Kyle leaned forward and studied what he could see of Dan’s face. Dan’s eyes looked soft, there were small wrinkles at their edges and Kyle knew Dan was smiling. And fuck it all, it gave him hope.</p><p> Kyle continued, “It <i>was</i> you, but no matter. You gave me your hoodie and cough syrup and then watched over me. I wanted to tell you then, but it was fucking freezing in Russia and I didn’t want to be kicked off the tour and have to find my way home. Also, I’m a complete coward. That was other reason I didn’t say it.”</p><p> And there he was, on the very edge of his mountaintop, staring down, ready to leap. </p><p>“The thing is, well. I love you. ”</p><p>Dan was silent and their two meters of distance might as well have been a million.</p><p>Kyle clinched his eyes shut. Right. So this was how it was going to be. Well, at least now he knew. At least now—</p><p>“Thank fuck,” Dan replied, his relief palpable enough that it easily reached across the room. Kyle’s eyes flew open and found Dan’s. “I love you, too. This whole time, really.”</p><p>Kyle had leapt off his moutaintop, but he wasn’t falling, he was fucking <i>flying</i>.</p><p>“Say it again,” Kyle laughed. “Only without the fucks and without the mask.”</p><p>Dan placed a finger through one of the loops behind his ears and slowly removed it. The fabric was replaced by what had to be the biggest smile Kyle had ever seen on Dan’s face. He was glowing. </p><p>“I’ve loved you this entire time. Before the night in the alley even—”</p><p>“There’s no way you figured this out before me. No, I don’t—”</p><p>	“That first night in that shit van, when you took the seat in the back and let me have the space up front. I knew it then.” Dan grinned and god, he was beautiful, all of it was fucking beautiful.</p><p>	“No,” Kyle insisted. </p><p>	“It’s true! Ask Woody. He might’ve caught me staring at you while you slept, but not, like, in a creepy sort of way.”</p><p> Dan looked sheepish and even that was wonderful. After being forced to see Dan in a mask, Kyle was content just to watch Dan’s face rearrange itself for the rest of the day.</p><p>	“Sounds dodgy.”</p><p>	“This is complete rubbish, you know,” Dan shook his head. “That I can’t see your face. That I can’t touch you or…”</p><p>	“Or...what else?” </p><p>“Kyle,” Dan warned in a low tone that immediately made Kyle picture all sorts of things they could be doing rather than stare at one another from across a room.</p><p>“This is just like us, isn’t it?” Kyle put forth and he watched Dan raise a glorious eyebrow. “To have had all those years side by side when we could’ve done whatever we wanted to do to one another but unable to just say the thing we needed to say. And now we’ve gone and said it, but now the rest of it is against the rules.” </p><p>Dan was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be selecting his next words carefully before he finally blurted, “What does one have to do to join the other’s, what’s the bloody expression they’re using? ‘Support Bubble,’ that’s it. How do we?”</p><p>	“I, uh. Well. We’d have to be in the same household.” Kyle’s heart leapt to his throat as he combed Dan’s face for any sign he would be interested in—</p><p>	“We could, we could do that. If you, I mean, we’ve lived together on a bus for months at a time. At least we’d have proper plumbing this go ‘round.” His eyes wide, Dan looked at Kyle. “If you wanted—”</p><p>	“I’m very much in favor of plumbing,” Kyle teased. He watched as Dan scowled in response.</p><p>	“You arse. You know I can’t see you, it’s not fair for you to—”</p><p>	“Please join my household, Dan.”</p><p>	The wrinkle from Dan’s nose went smooth, a slow smile spread across his face, and Kyle said it again just because he could: </p><p>	“I love you. Move in with me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The time Kyle said it and Dan nearly cried from the relief of it, occurred months and months later. </p><p>	The planet was mending from a catastrophe and had all but righted itself, but Dan had disrupted the rotation of his own world with Kyle.  </p><p>It wasn’t that Dan had meant to do it; it was never on purpose or malicious, but he had always been rubbish at keeping up with time. </p><p>That night there were countless moments when Dan's internal clock tried to give him a warning. He was at the studio immersed in a song, and images of Kyle kept rising to the surface, disrupting his thoughts. Dan would pause, looking at nothing in particular, as he pictured Kyle in his (in <i>their</i>) flat. He’d see Kyle curled up on the sofa, his face lit by the telly, wearing a too large jumper that swallowed his frame. Another time, Kyle was in their music room, perched over a keyboard, arranging a melody of his own. The visions brought a smile to Dan’s face before he plunged back into his work. </p><p>	It wasn’t until Dan was somewhat satisfied that he had the chorus in a semi-presentable state that he realized his error. He'd made and broken another promise to Kyle. He had sworn that, for once, he’d be on time for dinner. Kyle had insisted that they have one fully domestic night—that they have a proper supper. </p><p>He pictured Kyle setting their table and uncorking a bottle of wine, his ‘kiss the cook’ apron tied around his neck and waist whilst cooking a risotto recipe they both loved. </p><p>He winced as he imagined Kyle pacing and alone—Kyle waiting for a door that didn’t open, for a phone that never rang.</p><p>	Fuck.</p><p>	With a frantic urgency, Dan reached for his mobile and cursed aloud when he found it drained of battery.</p><p>	“Fuuuuuuuuck.”</p><p>	There weren’t many things that made Kyle truly cross, but Dan knew he had inadvertently hit upon two of them that evening. Due to his unfortunate habit of constantly showing up late to some place or another, Dan was already well familiar with Kyle’s lectures regarding punctuality. To Kyle, it was a sign of respect; it showed one person took another seriously, that they appreciated the other’s time. These lectures were typically followed by stony silences. Dan would much rather see Kyle animated, even in anger, than to have Kyle ignore him. Nothing was worse than seeing the animation on Kyle’s face fall flat.</p><p>	Dan gathered up his things, shoved them into his pockets, and darted out of the studio.</p><p>—</p><p>	Moments later, Dan unlocked the door to the flat and prepared for the worst. </p><p>	He found Kyle sitting on the sofa, phone in hand. Kyle gave a dark stare from underneath his brow and Dan’s heart sank, knowing he was the cause of it.</p><p>	“I can explain—” </p><p>	“Don’t,” Kyle interrupted. “It’s always the same. Lost track of time, battery drained, no charger to be found, no thoughts given to anything outside of your music, zero fucks that we actually made plans.”</p><p>	It was the truth and stung all the more for it. </p><p>	“I’m sorr—”</p><p>	“Sorry. Sure.” Kyle stood and walked away from Dan. </p><p>	Alarmed, Dan followed and came to a halt in the kitchen. He watched as Kyle opened the drawer that contained his keys and wallet and then closed a fist around both. Kyle moved past him and, desperate to make a connection, Dan reached out to touch his arm.</p><p>	Kyle’s stare turned icy upon seeing Dan’s fingers on his body. “No. Just no.” Dan loosened his hold and his hand fell limply away from Kyle.</p><p>	“Kyle,” Dan managed, in a voice made entirely of desperation. “We, we can have dinner now? I know it’s—”</p><p>	“It’s too late.” Kyle shook his head. “I can’t do this with you—I, I. Fuck, Dan. It’s <i>hours</i> past when you were supposed to be here. I thought, I worried that something had actually happened to you when you weren’t answering your phone. I was about to go to Jack’s myself.”</p><p>	“I’m so sorry. I really am I…” he stopped as Kyle moved his head from side to side. </p><p>	“Aren’t you tired of this, Dan?” </p><p>	“Tired?” he echoed. </p><p>	“Tired of arguing over this. I know I am. Honestly, I’m done with it.”</p><p>	Dan was beginning to really worry now. He was scared that this fight was possibly <i>the</i> fight—the one that ended everything. </p><p>	Kyle walked around him, taking care to ensure that no part of his body brushed against Dan. Dan trailed after him and his heart lodged in his throat  as Kyle prepared to leave. Pausing at the door, Kyle wrapped his hand around the knob and leaned his forehead against its frame. </p><p>	Kyle’s voice was soft, but Dan heard it everywhere as he spoke.</p><p>	“The more you keep forgetting me, the more I feel like nothing. Is that so difficult to understand?”</p><p>	Kyle didn’t wait for an answer. He pulled himself off the door and then left without another word. </p><p>Dan watched as the deadbolt turned, locking him inside the flat and Kyle outside of it. </p><p>He felt sick, knowing all of it was his own doing, even though it was unintentional. Dan tugged the collar of his hoodie, needing room to breathe. Glancing down at it, he realized it was one of Kyle’s. </p><p>Any precautions Dan had in place before he moved in with Kyle were long since gone, evaporating the moment Kyle said that he loved him. Dan hadn’t minded letting them go; he was glad to bid them farewell, exchanging them for a life that was better than anything he could have ever invented. </p><p>It was only now that he was alone, that the flat felt too big, that he felt defenseless.</p><p>Kyle’s flat was not particularly spacious to begin with and was infinitely smaller still with Dan having moved in. It had never felt cramped to Dan, just snug in the best sort of way. He had never minded squeezing past Kyle in the hallway or folding his clothes differently for them to fit in the wardrobe, and he loved seeing his keyboard leaning comfortably next to Kyle’s. It had taken no time at all to intertwine their belongings and he was suddenly terrified that it would take even less to tear it all apart. </p><p>Dan couldn’t stop moving. He stalked from room to room as if he were going to stumble on a solution, a way to right to what he had wronged. Short of a time machine, he knew there was nothing for it. </p><p>He glanced at the clock on the wall, the one that Kyle had likely stared at all evening and worried over how late it was. Dan wasn’t one to fret, but it was a bad idea for Kyle to be out alone at this hour. Wanting to make sure that, wherever Kyle was, he was safe, Dan reached for his phone. Its screen was pitch black, the dead battery another reminder of what a colossally shit boyfriend Dan truly was.</p><p>He walked into the kitchen, knowing that he would find one of Kyle’s chargers. Dan plugged his phone in, angry that he was in a mess entirely of his own creation. If something happened to Kyle, he would never forgive himself. </p><p>Dan knew he was letting his anxieties get the best of him and took a breath. He desperately wanted to believe that everything would eventually be alright but kept envisioning the worse. His mind pictured someone hurting Kyle (he winced, recalling that <i>he</i> was someone who had just hurt Kyle). He saw Kyle in a hospital bed. Dan shook his head, trying to empty the thoughts from it. </p><p>Instead of a hospital bed, Dan suddenly imagined Kyle in a hotel bed, saw him spending the night away from Dan, making plans to ask him to move out, to tell him that all of it was a mistake. </p><p>He moved about the flat like a caged animal, restless and unable to still his mind. Dan’s eyes scanned the space he shared with Kyle, each item calling up some memory. Nothing was safe. </p><p>Their lounge was full of a truly ridiculous number of plants that they’d doted on during the height of pandemic:</p><p>
  <i>Kyle’s voice rang out as he went about tending to each one. “Dan! I think Gertrude is about to blossom! I didn’t even know she could do that!” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan looked up from the email he was writing and found Kyle’s eyes were wide in disbelief from across the room.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Gertrude is the tall one?” Dan wondered. “In the corner?” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Jesus. No. That’s Stella. And before you ask, Clarissa is the flashy one there on the window sill.” Kyle shook his head. “No wonder they look so desolate on the days you water them.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan laughed, set his laptop down and went to join Kyle, stopping in front of the tallest plant. He bowed his head. “My apologies, Stella.” He turned to face the smaller plant and peered at the tiny bud that was threatening to explode at any moment. “Gertrude, you beautiful minx, you. I know you can do it.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Kyle blinked. “You’re strangely hot when you talk to our plants.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan grinned. “You should hear the things Clarissa and I talk about when you’re not around.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>The right side of Kyle’s mouth lifted in a half smile. “Ah. Explains why she’s always showing off her blooms, now doesn’t it?” </i>
</p><p>—</p><p> Even the fucking sofa was making Dan sad. He thought of all the music they’d written while surrounded by cushions:</p><p>
  <i>“This is the one, I think, the one that wins us the Grammy,” Kyle declared as he stretched his long arms.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan scoffed. “If we’re lucky, this might be the one they play in scuzzy night clubs.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Everyone who’s anyone knows that the scuzzy ones are the best ones, Daniel. Go on and send this to the Biebs. I know you have his number.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan wrinkled his nose and lowered his brows. “I don’t actually have anyone’s number. I hope that wasn’t the reason you finally made a move on me.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Oh?” Kyle wondered, pulling the small synth closer. “That’s a shame. But I suppose we could still go on soundtracking filthy night clubs together. Someone has to, after all. Might as well be us.” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Dan’s eyes followed Kyle’s hands as they splayed out across the keys. They idly riffed on the medley they had worked on all evening. </i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Your freckles,” Kyle declared as the music played around them. “They were the reason I made a move. Could never resist them.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Those lyrics don’t suit at all,” Dan stated in a dry tone that was completely betrayed by the dopey smile he felt spreading across his face.</i>
</p><p>
  <i></i>
</p><p>—</p><p>He thought of the endless amount of making out they’d done whilst a film played, unwatched, in front of them:</p><p>
  <i>“This is the best bit,” Dan grinned, nodding at the screen. “She has no idea that there’s someone already in the house and—” His words came to an abrupt stop as he felt Kyle shift closer and bury his nose just behind Dan’s ear. “Kyyyllle. You’re not paying attention.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	Somehow Kyle’s voice sounded even more rich than it normally did; it was almost decadent as he laughed. “Believe me, I’m paying attention to the best bit,” he said before pressing his lips against Dan’s neck.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>	The woman on the screen shut her eyes just as Dan closed his, and he promptly forgot all about her. <br/>
</i>
</p><p>—</p><p>How could he have taken it all for granted? </p><p>Suddenly, Dan heard a soft click coming from the front of the flat and he hurried towards the sound. </p><p>Kyle had come back.</p><p>Dan’s eyes drifted to Kyle’s right hand, where he clutched a small shopping bag. Dan had no idea what its contents could be, but it gave him hope. If Kyle were leaving for good, surely he wouldn’t have done a bit of shopping beforehand. </p><p>Kyle seemed exhausted, as if he were absolutely finished for the day, but he had come home and that was all Dan cared about.</p><p>Dan looked at him and saw flashes of their time together—of all the things they’d done and all they still had left to do. He parted his lips and spoke the truth:</p><p>“You are not nothing—you are <i>everything.</i>”</p><p>Kyle’s eyes closed for a split second and Dan could hear his quick intake of breath. When his eyes opened, they were pitch black and shiny with something that could’ve been tears. Dan took a gulp of air and watched as Kyle held up a hand, palm facing outwards, before he then hurried into the kitchen.</p><p>The room seemed to be spinning and Dan stood in the center of it all, desperate for a way to right its course. His heart was beating in his mouth and his mind splintered into a million pieces. </p><p>It was only when Kyle walked back into the lounge, still carrying the blasted shopping bag, that Dan could focus. Numbly, he watched as Kyle settled on the sofa and pulled out a pint of ice cream from the plastic bag.</p><p>“Come on, then,” Kyle said.</p><p>	In two steps, Dan was at the sofa, unsure of what exactly Kyle’s invitation included. He stood in front of Kyle, waiting for any sort of sign. </p><p>	“By tomorrow, you’ll need to have ordered a phone charger for every outlet in the studio, alright? None of this ‘I forgot’ or ‘lost my charger’ business, especially this late at night.” The anger was gone from Kyle’s voice and, as he finished speaking, he held up an offering of two spoons.</p><p>In half a heartbeat, Dan sat as close as he dared to Kyle’s side. He accepted the spoon and dipped it into the soft ice cream, careful not to spill any of it. He ate, not because he wanted to, but because he was determined to do anything Kyle asked of him. </p><p>Kyle loaded up a spoon of his own and he brought it to his mouth. Kyle leaned back and sank against the sofa, eyes closed again, only this time in some sort of ice cream induced bliss. He certainly looked as if he didn’t plan on moving again any time soon and for the first time in hours, Dan’s heart began to beat at a normal pace. </p><p>	It was only then that Dan felt brave enough to admit, “For a moment, I really thought you’d gone.”</p><p>“Of course not.”</p><p>	Kyle said it with such ease and such certainty that, in an instant, Dan believed him. He settled against the cushions of the sofa and wedged himself against Kyle’s side. Kyle shifted some of his weight onto Dan, and Dan couldn’t contain a small sigh of relief.</p><p>	They sat in silence as they each took bites of ice cream, lost in their own thoughts. It was Kyle who spoke first. </p><p>	“I love you, you know. That doesn’t just stop.”</p><p>	Dan’s eyes grew damp in gratitude and relief. Not trusting his voice, he drew close to Kyle and kissed the top of his eyebrow. </p><p>	Kyle smiled and nodded towards the pint of ice cream he still held in his hands. “So no more of this, then?”</p><p>	“No,” Dan confirmed as he took the container and placed it on the table. He turned back and pressed his lips to the grin he found on Kyle’s face. The kiss was a heady mix of Kyle and ice cream, laced with the realized joy that it was just one of the many moments they had left together. </p><p>	Kyle sank down on the sofa and pulled Dan with him. They broke apart briefly, and Dan followed Kyle’s gaze towards their coffee table. He laughed and then lightly rubbed his nose against the shell of Kyle’s ear. “Don’t worry, I used the coaster.” </p><p>“It’s ridiculously hot to hear you speak of protecting our furniture,” Kyle said. “There’s nothing I like more than—” </p><p>Kyle’s words disappeared as Dan moved his mouth against Kyle’s neck before turning his attention to Kyle’s earlobe. </p><p>It was the last either said for a long while.</p>
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